Upon Dreaming
by Alexx Riott
Summary: Splintered by A.G Howard. Morpheus is determined to change my mind and continuously visits me in my dreams. I would say it's not different than the dreams of my childhood, but he's become quite a bit more persuasive. Still, I'm not giving in. My home is with Jeb, human and not in Wonderland...right? Sometimes his dreams... Alyssa x Morpheus. This is an incomplete piece, unedited!


I think my human subconscious decided somewhere down the line that I greatly dislike that smug look that always seems to appear (without fail, mind you) whenever it would seem he has the upper hand. A part of me - the more human side anyway - wants to stamp it right off his face in outrage and exclaim my distaste for his face as a whole. Too bad that isn't really feasible in any case, huh? Although, I'm pretty sure that there is somebody in my life that would love such an opportunity. It still rocks me to my core too, when I realize that there's a darker, more animalistic side of me. It's that more mad piece of me that wishes he would do more than grin so handsomely. I want to taste his conceitedness as if it were a tangible thing. I chew on my bottom lip out of simple anxious habit, but of course he has to take it as something else. Dark glittering eyes invade my sight with that obnoxious _knowing_, and in them I can imagine myself drowning. Is that the right word? That inhuman part of my soul leaps to escape the normality I force outwardly. Yes, I could drown in what I see there inside of him and revel in that last, aching breath before letting myself wholly submit to him.

"Your Highness," he murmurs cockily in late greeting. I'm back to wanting to throttle him, but that gaze still holds me firmly in place. I twitch as a slender finger moves to trace the lip I had been nibbling at. Morpheus's perfectly manicured nails scrape just so, which causes goosebumps to rise all over my skin. My breath catches too at his abrupt contact and find myself able to see something else - his hat (part of his latest dead bug chic "collection") complete with a string of tattered moths around the middle. This time, I tell myself I'll avoid being captured by that heated stare and those talented digits. I don't want to admit just how enrapturing he can really be. I don't want to end up part of his "handsome ensemble". I'm nobody but Jeb's, I'm telling myself firmly, and only my mortal knight can show off to all of our friends and his art clients...if he ever wanted to do that, even. I don't want to play the obedient queen and hang off his arm like some pathetic creature, especially when my heart belongs with my best friend. Ugh, I feel as if both my thoughts and emotions have been split in two equal sections. They're struggling to dominate one another. I'm terrified I know which part is going to win out tonight.

"I hate you," I manage finally after several painful seconds, and I'm silently grateful as he takes a step backwards. Good, he's remembered the invisible box I told him about, I think to myself. Better late than never?

"Well, that's not very nice, luv. It's splendid to see you, too." He motions to my body, which makes me do a double take. I'm dressed differently than usual with brilliant black and violet pinstripe tights and a fitted black bodice with silver clasps. My fluffy petticoat is a matching jumble of gauzy white and differing shades of purple. My pale hair, streaked with a strand of blood red, curls simply at the ends just above my waistline. I'm assuming that this must be his doing, too. The ensemble itself is actually pretty cute, but my hair is styled a little differently than I would normally have worn it. I don't think I even own this outfit, so I must be dreaming.

"You are," the eccentric netherling murmurs, opting to study my curves rather loftily as he leans back against an invisible wall. Once again, Morpheus was in my head. Quite literally, too. The background around us shifted in a colorful whirl, and I found myself under a very familiar diamond-barked tree that leads into the heart of Wonderland. Halfheartedly, I kick at rubies glittering on the ground all around our feet. The dreams moth boy visited nowadays were much different than the ones I had shared with him as an innocent child. Did I dread them? My mind hesitates, as if unsure of the answer, and then it clicks in my head. No, not exactly, but Jeb would be pretty heated if he ever realized the goings-on so regularly once my head hit the pillow. I refrain from wincing at the very thought, but just barely.

"Any chance you've changed your mind? Your subjects miss you," Morpheus speaks quietly, and his voice is so serious and liquid that it throws me off. Only a few months ago, I left that enticingly wicked place for the human realm - the home I'd known all my life. I couldn't bear to leave my friends and family behind...or Jeb, my best friend and mortal love interest (most of Wonderland refers to him as my mortal knight).

Unfortunately, this particular blue-haired dreamboat wasn't satisfied with my decision, and began visiting me almost nightly in an attempt to change my mind. He'd tricked me into taking the crown, and I am still feeling a bit miffed, if I do say so myself! Morpheus hasn't exactly proven himself to be...trustworthy, I guess you could say. There is always a fraction of his stories that are magnified with more than truths or twisted in a way that a person bends unwittingly to his will and turns up stringed along as if a helpless puppet in a horrifying story. The Caterpillar and wisdom keeper of Wonderland is actually a drop dead gorgeous fibber...honestly! It's too bad that no matter what I ever say or do, or even with whatever I believe, I will never be able to successfully guard myself against him. He will undoubtedly always have this tendril of power over me.

"No."

Morpheus reenters my personal bubble with fingers curling around my chin and trailing over my features like a blind man "seeing" his first face, and I can feel my cheeks heating. His face is coming within inches of mine, and I'm soaking up his body heat. Sweet breath puffs against my mouth and if he were any closer, we would be touching. I'm under his thumb, so to speak, in the _worst_ way. My belly flips and fire pools within me, but I grit my teeth and watch as my shaking hands reach up for his. He's swatting them away and my poorly executed attempt to shoo him (if you could even call it that) falters. Instead, I wind my hands up in his gauzy shirt. His lips part and I watch as he seems to hold his breath and survey me with those enchanting orbs. Morpheus's wings shift elegantly at his back and my breathing is hitched. Totally unsteady and seriously not getting him with the "hands off" program, huh, Alyssa?

My throat is awfully dry. I'll always be here in these twisted dreams of ours, I guess, until one of us gives up and we can attain no more entertainment from our intense routine. Perhaps, I'll even one day admit to myself I wouldn't wish to have it any other way. My netherling blood must be making me demented, too. Sigh. My _immortal_ knight is all glittering black wings and twittering moths tangled in darkness and luxurious crushed velvet.

His tightly muscled body looms ever closer. Can my face glow any brighter of a red than it does now? I smell that smoky licorice from his hookah on his skin and clothes and the faintest trace of a woodsy soap scent. Oh, why does he have to smell so good, I wonder, as I catch a glimpse of a pearly white smile underneath that cockeyed hat.

"What hat is that, anyway?" I snap in an attempt to regain my grasp on my self control. My heart is hammering away at my ribcage and I feel like if I let go of his shirt I might break apart. The answer comes to me without another word from him, as if I'm in his head as he is in mine, and I am enraptured by the changes I finally can note in the color of the jewels on his face. That color - I'm sure I've seen it once before. A "seduction hat"? Really? If I wasn't so flustered and shaky and wanting, I might be able to roll my eyes. The fabric that's pinched beneath my digits is suddenly cool and magically plucked away from me and my hands are slipping through a figure no longer present. Panic surges within me and my resolve is waning. I want - no, I _need_ him!

"Consider it. Come to your real home...in Wonderland. Good night, luv," I hear him say in that rich, smooth baritone is accented with something akin to laughter. It's the last I hear before everything is fading away to the blackness of a dreamless sleep. Around me, I can feel him still: that comforting, presence lulling me back into a state of comfort and security. Giving in to him and finding a way to end these dreams might actually be a disappointment. I don't want to dwell on that though, because then I'd feel guilty. I don't want to betray Jeb. Though, I think I'm gonna agree with that other part of me, but only this _one time_. I hope Jeb never finds out about these dreams, even though they're nothing more than that, I feel as if somehow they are becoming an important part of who I'm becoming. _Oh, screw you, Morpheus._

"I'll be waiting, Alyssa Gardner - ever faithful."

A/N: This is not only my first shot at a first person POV, but an unfinished piece (that I'll eventually be fleshing out). Looking for feedback and potentially a beta reader. Hope you enjoyed!


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